I'll Never Have You
by a.silver.rainbow
Summary: Or so she thought. Though, she could be wrong. You'll never know. Maybe it'll be a fairytale after all.
1. takeone

MYFIRSTFANFIC. I don't really know why I started writing, but I just thought I'd take a shot at it. If I'm terrible at it, I apologize.

Let's pretend Dumbledore exists, eh? Also, if random things that don't quite fit pop up, please do excuse me. I'm not perfect.

enjoy!

* * *

I hate Dumbledore. Stupid Dumbledore. Stupid ideas. Why does he have to think up some ingenious idea that makes my life miserable? Deciding to adapt the Muggle's classroom arrangement. Absolute crap. Sitting together in pairs, with a class of twenty, for every fucking lesson for your entire Hogwarts life was not enjoyable.

I don't know if I should scream or shout. I shouldn't complain, I know. My partner's Albus. Practically family! And yet it pains me, because slimy, ferret-offspring Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, is sitting in front of me.

And his partner is none other, then my great friend Jasmine.

Scorpius Malfoy's partner for the year is Jasmine Evans.

And I love him.

I love him.

Someone just shoot me now.

I can't stand Jasmine dropping things, _and him picking it up for her_. It's not like she does it on purpose, of course. She drops a quill, drops a piece of parchment. But he's on her beck and call. And he's always smiling when he talks to her. I should feel guilty, but I don't. Jasmine likes him, and he likes her too. She told me. They both haven't admitted it yet, though. Either way, it's obvious. All those gestures spell it out clearly. For example, just yesterday, when I dropped my favorite quill on the floor? He noticed, and not only did he not pick it up (not that I expected him to), he purposely stepped on it. He turned around in his chair, smirked, and _squished_ it. And now my quill is ruined. It's one of those delicate ones. You have to handle it with care.

I hate him. And I hate myself. I don't know what I like about him; he's not one of the best looking boys in school, that would be my almost-family-too, and brother of Albus, James Sirius, and Cedric Chang. In fact, I'm not even supposed to like Malfoy.

_Look who it is. So that's little __Scorp__ius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.__" _

_"__Ron, for heaven's sake. Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!__" _

_"__You're right, sorry. Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood.__" _

It's practically imprinted in my mind. Not that it'd matter anyway, all that _he_ sees is Jasmine Evans.

Guilty. Jealous. All these thoughts are just swirling around in my head. Days pass, and I just watch. Albus just obediently does his work, and so do I. But hey, I can multitask, can't I? We're right behind them, so I can watch everything. And every little thing he does for her stabs my heart. I swear, one day I'm going to break.

"Ah, music! Music, my dear class is a form of art! Like art, dancing, music is a form of expression! There are many different types…" Professor Millicent continues droning on, and I try to absorb what she's saying. Scorpius is talking to Jasmine, and I can see her smiling.

"Rose! Did you just hear me?" Professor Millicent's voice cuts through my thoughts.

I stare blankly at her. Great. Now practically the whole class is looking at me. Scorpius and Jasmine turn around to face me, and I can feel Scorpius smirking, my face turning red, matching my hair. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Scorpius?" Professor Millicent asks, hopefully.

"You said we had to do a project, Professor." Scorpius turns to face her, his voice smooth.

"Correct! You have to compose a song, my dears! It can be about anything, family, nature, humor, and romance!" Professor Millicent claps her hands together at that. The whole class perks up, interested and listening, but she doesn't mention anything worthy of gossip.

"It is due two weeks from now, and I expect _at least two drafts_ to come in by next Monday! Yes, you do need drafts if you want to score an Outstanding in this class!" Professor Millicent says, when she sees Albus's questioning look.

Bloody brilliant.

* * *

"And we have to make sure that the lyrics of the song _rhyme_!" Lily adds, in disgust. The fourth time this day. As if I'm not in her Muggle Studies class. I love my family, but sometimes they are rather irritating. My head was already working overtime on what I was to write. I bet Scorpius and Jasmine are going to write some sappy love song which they'll submit together, and who knows maybe they'll sing it to each other and then Professor Millicent will film it, and the whole stupid Hogwarts will see "Sappy Love Song of the Year" and-

"Rose," Lily gives me a look, and I know what she's thinking. She's the only one who does. She confronted me last week, because she's so damn good at noticing little things. The boys however, are oblivious.

"Hmm?"Albus asks, his mouth covered in whipped cream (from dinner's custard pie, no doubt).

"Hello!" It was Jasmine. She put down her belongings on the chair, took one look at Albus and pulled a face. "Albus, you look ridiculous. You almost look like Dumbledore." At that, she reached for a napkin and wiped the cream away from his mouth. Albus froze, a spoonful of chocolate pudding hovering in midair. He recovered quickly, I'll give him that. He gave a cough and continued eating, but I did not fail to notice that his ears turned slightly red. Jasmine, on the other hand, did not notice this, and was unaffected.

I caught Lily's eye and grinned. It _so_ obvious that Albus had a crush on her, no matter how hard he'd try and deny it. Jasmine doesn't notice it anyway. She's too busy filling her head with images of _Scorpius_.

In fact, I think he's staring over at the table right now. As if to prove my point, Jasmine sits up straighter and hastily puts down the napkin containing Albus's … desert. I turn around, to confirm it, and meet Malfoy's eyes.

Brown meets grey.

I love his eyes. They're this stormy grey, and it always seems as if he knows what you're thinking. I stop, in thought halfway, and remember that I'm not supposed to be thinking of him. He would never, _ever_, spare a thought for me when he's got Jasmine, so why should I? Thus, I give him my best glare, snatch up my belongings, hurry out of the Great Hall and back to my common room.

"Burst my bubble," I tell the Fat Lady, when I reach the portrait. She sniffed disdainfully, but swung open anyway (She did not approve of the new password one bit. From the day that the password was set, Peeves would blow bubbles whenever he passed by, and often her portrait would get soapy. The Fat Lady does not do soapy). I climbed through and quickly went to change for bed. I didn't feel like staying up today, I was much too frustrated.

* * *

"Great," I muttered to myself. I was already sitting on my bed, changed, and ready for bed. My curtains were drawn, and spells were already placed to give myself privacy. My problem now?

Thinking of stupid lyrics for Professor Millicent's assignment. I mean, compose a song. What was the rational for it? If there was one topic I could relate on, it would be well, romance. Professor Millicent said she would not reveal the lyrics to the class, thankfully. Either way, I could write about family. Or friends. "_And make sure it rhymes!_"

This is too hard.

After scribbling a few lines, crossing them out later, and repeating those two steps for about five times, I did the smart thing: I gave up. Tossing my notebook and quill aside, I went to sleep.

Fantasizing about things that would never happen often helped me sleep faster, and so I did.


	2. taketwo

_I stand before you,_

_All that I am._

_And if you just see right through me,_

_I'll understand.__  
_

* * *

I watched a muggle movie with Lily in the holidays. It was romance. There and then, I realized I wanted a happy ending to my pitiful story. Or, I could have wanted it from the start. I wouldn't know. I'm not a bloody therapist. The point is, why do _those_ people get happy endings? Why can't I? I asked myself that question while watching the leading man kiss his bride, and I remember grimacing. It pained me to see such a corny ending, because it was plain unfair. Only in the movies, do you see this crap.

That amount of love.

It's pathetic, really.

Who actually watches those movies? They only make themselves feel miserable. Unless, of course, you're on a date with a boy you like. You'll end up hooking up with him while watching it. It was impossible to feel 'inspired', as my delightful cousin, Lily, put it. Next thing you know, at Hogwarts, she's dating the boy of her dreams. Must have gone out and saw that movie.

Why am I telling you this? Because I _wish_, I so dearly wish, that Jasmine and Scorpius would see the movie, get together, and maybe I would give up on him. Or it would make me feel even more depressed. I really don't know, and I can only hope, can't I? These days there hasn't been much 'action', in that sense, but I still don't feel right. Something feels off somehow.

And so I continue with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework ("_A __boggart__ is a shape shifter that takes on the form of its intended victim's worst fear. It likes to hide in dark, enclosed places, such as closets and cabinets. Since a boggart changes shape upon sight, few know what one looks like in unaltered form. It is recommended to approach a boggart in groups of two or more, so that the boggart will have difficulty in choosing which one to frighten. A common wizard's defence against a boggart is to point a wand at the boggart and say "__Riddikulus"__ while thinking of something very funny; this charm can apparently be used to destroy an already weakened boggart."_ Yeah, that's all I've written so far), ignoring the unsettled feeling.

* * *

"I'm setting up Rose with Scorpius," Jasmine said grimly.

"What? I thought you like him?" Lily asked, astonished. She was totally flabbergasted. Didn't Jasmine like Scorpius? Didn't he like her, too? Lily abandoned her Potion's homework, and shoved it aside.

"I never did. I just let Rose think so. I was just pissed with her, because she never told me about her crush on Scorpius, and so I just led her along. It was easy, really. And about Scorpius, he doesn't like me. Never did. He doesn't like anyone currently, apparently, but I doubt it. I've got a suspicion it's Rose."

"He hates her," Lily told Jasmine, her voice flat.

"Well, yes," Jasmine admitted, "but not for long. He doesn't hate her, I can tell. He just thinks he does. He doesn't act like that to anyone, not even your family. No offense," Jasmine quickly added, seeing the look of outrage enter her fellow Gryffindor's usually beautiful face.

Hearing that, Lily was appeased. Her face lighted up considerably.

"He's really… intense when he looks at her. I don't get him," Jasmine sighed, and Lily patted her shoulder, her face thoughtful.

"What should we do?"

* * *

It was bothersome. Scorpius washed his face, but it still looked as tired as ever. Rose Weasly irritated him. It was her fault he was this tired. He kept her awake most nights, with her face clouding his mind. She was so fucking troublesome, so fucking smart, so fucking perfect.

And that _irritated_ him.

Mostly, because, half the time when he had been observing her, she looked depressed. Sad. And that didn't fit. Did she not have a loving family, a good friend (which was also his, too)? Weren't her parents part of the Golden Trio, people who his father despised? (Which in this case, was a very good thing.) They were famous. Hell, they were featured on Chocolate Frog Cards. That meant something.

So why did she still look so depressed?

And that _troubled_ him.

He had to admit, he was obsessed with Rose Weasly. Because he couldn't understand. And for that, he hated her. He hated everything about Rose Weasly. The only redeeming feature she had, to him, was that her best friend, beside Lily Potter, was Jasmine Evans, his best friend, too. Weird. Who would have known, right? That his best friend would be a girl, and one in Gryffindor, at that. But she reminded him of someone he would like to know, which was, well, _Rose Weasly_. Of course, she did not have a family that loved her. Her parents were divorced. Perhaps that was why he liked her so much; she understood what pain felt like, while Rose Weasly was sunshine and roses all the way.

Jasmine Evans was very much like Rose Weasly, but not exactly, of course. That would be impossible. Scorpius didn't know how to explain. He liked Jasmine, and he hated Rose for what she had. And they were so alike, but so different.

It didn't make sense.

What got him uncomfortable the most was Weasly's stare. It seemed to know exactly what he was thinking about. Which meant that his eyes resembled Weasly in that characteristic. Well, at least that was what his mother told him.

And he _disliked_ that greatly.

It _disgusted_ him.

Scorpius Malfoy was confused, and he didn't like it. Sighing, he tried yet again to arrange his face in what he thought most people would perceive as a happy, jubilant expression.

…

Except Rose Weasly, of course. She would notice, because she watched him. Though he didn't know, wouldn't notice, but she did. Just like how he watched her.

* * *

This was weird. Weirder than usual. Since when did Lily and Jasmine become such _great_ friends? My eyes narrowed at them suspiciously. Upon glancing at me, Jasmine immediately stopped talking. They had been looking at me throughout their conversation, but I guess they (or Jasmine, in this case,) only just realized that I was looking. That did not mean anything good. It meant, instead, that whatever hell they were planning for me, was extremely easy to get engrossed in and discuss. That was bad. Signaling to Lily that I was looking, Jasmine turned to me and smiled.

My mouth twitched. I finally broke into smile at Jasmine's innocent expression. It was her no,-we're-not-doing-anything-bad,-why-do-you-look-like-you-think-we-are? look. "Rose, why do you look like you think we're doing something bad and terrible? We really are just discussing some potion homework. And the hot boy in the front row," Jasmine smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. I snorted. A likely story.

"I'm not buying it. But forget it, I don't want to know. I prefer not to die earlier on in life," I waved it off with my hand and went back to my dinner. A few minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw them nod about something enthusiastically and then turned to me expectantly. I sighed and raised my head.

"Yes?"

"It's Sunday, Rose." Lily said bluntly.

"And so?"

"The Valentine Dance is next Sunday. A week more, Rose. And you _don't have a date_," Jasmine emphasized it, looking at me expectantly.

"No way in-"

"hell? Did you want to just go alone, dateless, Rose? Furthermore, Rosie, all the good boys are getting taken up. In fact, I think you were asked out a few times for this ball, weren't you? Why did you turn them down?" Lily taunted. Screw her. She is no longer my favourite cousin. She very well knows why I turned them down! And as a matter of fact, if I were the _slightest_ optimistic, I would be in our common room doing my homework.

Not dancing with my prince in a gorgeous dress. Those are for people like her and Jasmine.

"You'll be glad to know, my friend, that we are _setting you up_!" Jasmine announced, as if she had just discovered gravity.

"No."

"Why not?" They both said simultaneously.

"I'll probably regret it for the rest of my life."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Whatever, Rose, we don't care. It's for your own good. And we won't set you up with anyone terrible, okay?" Lily promised.

I opened my mouth to object, but Jasmine's look silenced me.

"It's settled then."

* * *

"So Scorpius," Jasmine and Lily sat down opposite him, at the Slytherin table. Eyes followed them, curious as to why a Gryffindor (well, two,) went across the Great Hall, to a Slytherin. Scorpius looked at them blankly, obviously not getting it. He put down his spoon, and tried to disguise his curiosity by taking a long drink of water.

"About homework," Lily shouted loudly, and most people looked away. Scorpius smirked at Potter. Always the loud one, wasn't she? But what was she doing with Jasmine? It was a good thing he always sat alone at his own table. If his housemates heard about any part of this conversation, he could tell, that he would be fucking dead meat.

"Where's Weasly?" Scorpius couldn't help but ask. Jasmine shot a triumphant look at Lily.

"Well, _Malfoy_, since you want to know, she's in the common room doing homework." Lily said, "When she finished dinner, she left. Any other questions, _Malfoy_?"

"No, _Potter_, How about you? You must have come here for a reason," Scorpius replied, still smirking.

"Ah, yes, about that Scorpius. It's not a question, no, but an order," Jasmine smiled apologetically.

Bitch.

That was Scorpius's first thought. Before he realized that it was Jasmine, of course. She always did what was necessary, didn't she?

"And what is this… order?" Scorpius raised his eyebrow, twirling his spoon in his hand.

"We're setting you up with a date for the Valentine Day Ball." Lily said promptly.

"No way in-" Here, Jasmine and Lily looked at each other and started laughing. Dumbledore knows why.

"hell?" Jasmine added innocently, after her fit of giggles were over.

"Well, yes."

"Scorpius, you don't have a date for the ball, don't you?" Jasmine shot me a knowing look. Fuck it. She bloody knows that I _don't want to go_ for the stupid ball. That's why I had turned down every offer and never asked anyone.

"No, but-"

"If you don't accept the fact that we're setting you up with someone and that you _will_ pick her up at 7, we'll send your picture to Witch Weekly," Jasmine stated threateningly.

"What pict-"

"This one," Lily said, dangling a photo in front of my face, smiling widely.

Fuck.

It was the photo which was taken of me Last Christmas. I was fucking drunk and I invite Lily to 'come over', as I had put it. She took a picture of my drunken state and burst out laughing.

"Potter," I growled, in what I thought was a menacing voice.

"I will," she promised.

"Fine," I spat out, "but I will _not_ enjoy it, and I will definitely _not_ ask her to dance! And I want to know who I am being set up with!"

"You'll see, Scorpius," Jasmine and Lily stood up, "And don't be so uptight. You'll get wrinkles earlier," Jasmine winked at me.

And then the pair of devils left my table.

* * *

SORRY! ALSO, I WROTE A ONESHOT. It's a sad version, though. Anyway, I hope, dearly, that you will find this chapter acceptable. I find Scorpius really fun to write, because he's confused. Which is what I am most of the time, so like I said, it's fun. (:

enjoy!


	3. takethree

HELLO! I'm currently wondering who reads author notes. Obviously, if you're reading this, you are. So thank you for reading it. (: Now. I have to apologize for me not uploading for a reallyreallyreally long time, but uhm. yeah. I'm having and _had_, some really major exams that decide my fate. No kidding. Just today I actually had another exam, but I needed a break. And so I finished this. My reallyreally_really_ major exams start next month, so within that whole period i have to be spam-studying. But after that, I promise that this thing will be done really quick. I think. Really high chance.

Eheh. I talk a lot, as you have probably noticed. Also, if you're going to favorite this story, can you please, _please_, drop me a quick review? I want to know how much you like this story which I think I am writing pathetically.

Loveyoualways! :D

* * *

I'm confused

_I'm alone_

_So please explain it all to me_

_And hold me here_

_Hold me now_

_

* * *

_

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

What the _hell_ have I gotten myself into?

Okay, calm down Scorpius.

You're getting agitated. Malfoy's are supposed to be calm, cool and collected. Do not think about it. Think about getting a massage. A lovely, soothing-

"Damn it!" I slammed my cup on the table. Crap. The remaining people in the Great Hall turned towards me, surprised at my outburst. _Oh, fine, people, agree to a date when you don't want to go! You do that! Not like you don't go mad! I don't care! It doesn't concern me! I don't need pity! I don't need a fucking date! I would just like to sit in the common room and do my homework or something! If I'm bored, I'll play wizard chess with myself! I assure you, it's exciting. Thrilling, really. Who needs dates? You should be thinking about one-night stands! All the girls are clamoring for me! Why go on a date!"_

This isn't helping.

And it's not just me _going_ to the Ball with _the date of my choice_, I'm being set up. That is beyond terror. I would at least pick a pretty looking Slytherin! Stupid Potter. Stupid Potter. ! And dare I say it, stupid Jasmine! Does she not understand why I don't want to go! I hate Balls! You usually have to slow dance! Even though I explicitly told them I would never, _ever_, dance with my date, they'll probably make me. Screw them. Furthermore, you have to fetch them punch! You have to all act romantic-like, when really, all I want to do is lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling!

Worst of all?

Professor Millicent's assignment's first draft is due tomorrow. I want to blame this on Potter, but I probably can't. Besides, I'm too nice, am I not? Compared to some people. Such as Lily Potter. And Jasmine Evans. Ugh. I can't stand this. I'm going to the common room to try and compose two fucking songs. To hell with it all.

I stood up, all eyes on me, and stiffly picked up my bag, and with my remaining dignity, walked briskly out of the Great Hall. I walked along the corridor, back to my common room. Every step I took on the stone-tiled floor, echoed into the distance.

Somewhere else, a triumphant yell was heard.

* * *

"I'm done! I'm done! I'm done I'm done I'm-"

"Mad," Lily said, flipping a page of her magazine. Did I mention that it was a Muggle teenage magazine? Something about fashionable clothes. I couldn't really give a damn about whatever she was reading. Who cares about _fashion_? Half the time it's some skinny model in some revealing clothes. Lily tries to deny it though, shoving the magazine in my face to prove it, but I always close my eyes. I don't want to be blinded. I admit, though, the only time I saw a model like that was when I was walking the streets of Muggle London. But that is not the point. Fashion magazines are trash anyway.

I glare at my cousin. She looks at me over her magazine, shook her head, and went back to reading. I would _not_, let this affect my mood. Because I had just finished Professor Millicent's assignment's drafts! It was done! "Have you even _finished_ your drafts, Lily?" I ask in a hard voice.

"Sure, it was really easy. All I had to think about were clothes and Charles, and a perfect love song was written. Well, two. One on clothes, one on Charles. It's not that hard, Rose," Lily shrugs.

I stared at her in disbelief. Seriously? Just thinking about her two favorite things gave her a song - clothes and her boyfriend. This is beyond pathetic. It took three hours for me to write two songs. How on earth did my cousin complete a piece of work earlier then me! Whatever. I would still not let it ruin my mood. The songs are perfect, and I composed it. Still, it's rather hard not to get affected by my '_excited_' cousin. Staring at her disinterested face, I state crossly, "Fine. I'm going to take a walk by the lake."

"Mmhmm."

I love you too, Lily. I love you too.

I storm out of the common room in a huff. Lily didn't even blink, I bet. It always happens. I'm happy about something, she makes me _un_happy, and I storm out. And then walk by the lake to clear my thoughts. Then I come back just before curfew. Always happens. Routine.

Right.

But this time, when I walk by the lake, it feels different. It's a full moon, and there's a slight breeze. It's perfect, yeah, I know. The right mood and everything. I could even start writing a composition about it. _A starry night. The moon hung high in the sky, and there was a slight breeze blowing through the lake. The crickets were chirping a mournful tune due to *insert reason here*, and…" _Get my point?

I don't understand. I just don't. And now, you might be asking what I don't understand, aren't you? But I don't know either. I don't even _know_ what I don't understand. All I know is that it has something to do with Malfoy and Jasmine. She's been acting… not so lovey-dovey anymore. And Scorpius, sorry, _Malfoy_, doesn't seem to notice. Or mind. Or whatever. It makes me feel uncomfortable somehow.

I like him so much it makes my heart ache. I hate him so much that it helps me conquer the fact that I should never, _ever_, feel anything for him other than hatred. Pure hatred, because it had already been settled: I was a Weasly, he was a Malfoy.

But sometimes I lose.

Sometimes it's unbearable to tear my eyes away, to stop thinking about his fucking brilliant smirk. The arrogant one that makes my heart beat twice as fast for some reason. His beautiful grey eyes and his brilliance. He's perfect. And then there are those days when he pisses me off so badly I threaten to hex him and really do, sometimes. That I glare at him hard, and can swear I see something flicker beneath his eyes. To tell you the truth, the my-heart-beat-increases thing usually happens either when number one, he mocks me or my family, or number two: when I think about him and me put together. How that we will never ever in a million years, be. It's like he's some fucking beautiful moon and I'm this Sun and no matter how hard we try, we'll never be in the same place, because that was how it works.

It's either one or the other.

Assuming that both the sun and the moon _want_ to be together, of course. I know I'll get over him eventually, just like Emily Goyle got over him, just like so many others did. And in the end, he'll marry another pure blood, have a child that looks exactly like him, and exact replica, and live happily ever after. Or 'richly ever after', if there were such a phrase. But sometimes I just can't stop. And usually then, do I start crying.

Just like I am now.

The tears are just coming out by itself, I swear. They always, one way or another, spill out of my eyes and onto the ground. I really am that pathetic. I quickly wipe them away, though I know my face will probably still be glistening with them. At least I tried anyway.

And then suddenly, I hear a voice behind me. Speak of the fucking devil that makes me cry, because it's Malfoy.

And I don't want to see him right now, just like how I don't want him to see me like this.

* * *

_From the start, I knew it wasn't meant to be like that,_

_And yeah,_

_I wish it was a fairytale,_

_And that you were my prince ,_

_To sweep me off my feet._

_Ride off into the sunset,_

_And live happily ever after,_

_But it's not._

_It's not._

_

* * *

_

I can't fucking do this fucking assignment at all. I can't. It's so damn hard to think of somewhat-rhyming lyrics. And I can't even pay someone smart to do it, because they're as creative as they have a social life. And i'm talking about retards here. So yes, they have zero social life, zero creativity. Bastards. I would pay fifty galleons for someone to write me a fucking song. I crumple up my latest attempt, and skillfully throw it into my dustbin. Score. (Unfortunately, not with my assignment.)

I have ten pieces of crumpled paper in that very dustbin right now, as a matter of fact. All failures. 'Malfoys will _never _fail at anything' is the Malfoy family motto, and I intend to stick to it for the rest of my life. 'Till' death due thou motto part' is also another. Basically, my family has a hell lot of mottos. And we have to stick to them. It's in our genes. In every single cell our perfect god-like bodies contain.

Okay that's it.

I give up. I'm going for a walk. I push back my chair and grab a sheet of paper and a quill. Time to go to a place where I can really think. As briskly as I can, I exit the common room and walk out of the school, to the place where I love the best in this entire 'educational wonder!' as Dumbledore so eloquently put it. Surprising, no, it's not the Room of Requirement. I don't give a shit about it. I personally think it's crap, because well, I can't find it. I'm on the third floor and everything, wishing for it, and I can't find it. No, it does not mean I am pathetic. The Room of Requirement is only for gits who actually _need _things, and as a Malfoy, I do not. Perhaps the room only opens itself when the person is poor. Or unlucky. Or retarded. Or socially unaware of how pathetic he is.

I breathe in the air of my surroundings, and plonk myself on the crisp grass.

I simply love the lake.

It's surroundings are breathtakingly beautiful, and the air is always fresh. The Hogwarts building is always so stuffy, but out here, it's lovely. The stars are rather clear tonight. I adore stars, did you know that? Once or twice, I actually happened to see a shooting star. If you were able to figure it out, Astronomy is thus my best subject. I would wish upon shooting stars, whenever I saw them. Who wouldn't? It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I've seen shooting stars thrice. I would wish for stupid things, really. When I was younger, I would wish for a new broom, some chocolate frogs, things of that sort.

And the reason why I think my wishes come true?

Because they do.

Whenever I did wish for things, they would appear. It was fascinating, really. I never told anyone about it, because I was selfish. I'm a Malfoy, okay? And I don't mean that it would just fucking appear right next to me. I mean, that would be plain freaky. I could still remember when I wished for my broom, for example.

The night after I wished for a new broom, my father organized a family shopping spree. We would go to Diagon Alley, and Mother would get some new clothes from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Then, she would proceed to her favourite jewellery shop. I would tag along with my father, because, well, I hated waiting for Mother to finish trying on her things. I would have to stand around, and later carry her shopping for her. It was terrible. Anyway, on that day, my father had finished going to Flourish and Blotts for his favourite novel, and he had asked me where I had wanted to go. Of course, I promptly replied that I wanted to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

And bam. Thirty minutes later, I walk out of the shop with a brand new Nimbus 3003. And a broom servicing kit.

I was ecstatic, as you probably could guess. I only realized the relation to the fact that I wish upon a shooting star the next time it happened, but realize it I did, all the same.

The main point I wanted to put across, before I got sidetracked, would be that I love the lake, and I love nighttime.

There, I finally said it, without all the crap.

Anyway, I _still_ have to think of lyrics for the song I'm supposed to write. Staring out at the lake's surface, where the stars in the sky are reflected in, I already know what I'm going to write. It's already forming in my mind.

And then, suddenly, I can hear someone sobbing. Okay, crying. It's really soft, anyway. Immediately, I deduced ('Thou must deduce') that's it's a girl because:

1. Boys aren't usually found at lake. I'm not a boy, if you're wondering why the previous statement makes no sense. I am a god. A beautiful, perfect, god.

2.

I have no number two, but that aside. Girls don't usually come to the lake. Practically all the students don't come to the lake, frankly. They think it's wet. Well, the lake _is_ wet, because it's a body of water, no? But they have some skewed idea that the grass and stuff are wet, which is not true, unless it rains. It's all dry and comfortable.

So yeah. I think it's a girl.

Which is fantastic. One more girl to hook up with.

I quickly pen down my ideas onto my paper so I wouldn't forget it completely, and tuck it into my shirt pocket. I get up and brush off the (imaginary) dirt on my clothes ('thou shall always brush off imaginary dirt') and proceed to walk towards that mystery girl. Her back's facing me, but in the moonlight, I can see that she has the most fantastic body I've ever seen. And that's saying something. How come I've never seen her around before, anyway?

"Are you okay?" I ask tentatively, unsure for the first time in a long time. ('Thou Malfoy shall not be unsure, hesitant, or anything of that sort.')

I can see her freeze, and for a moment I'm dumbstruck. Shouldn't she recognize my voice and know at once that a _god_ is coming to her rescue? What a curious situation. She turns slightly to face me, and I can see her profile, finally, properly.

And then _I _freeze, because I noticed her hair color.

It's red.

Oh shit.

And then, after I've gotten over my shock, I'm angry. Because she's crying. She's fucking perfect, as I've just noticed, because she has the most fantastic body ever (why did I not notice it again? Oh right. Because I was pissed at her for looking sad. Right. Just checking), loving family, and all that priceless crap.

And she's crying.

What, is she pregnant or something? I run my eyes over her figure, just to confirm it. Negative. She's not pregnant. Then what is it? Stupid girl. Stupid Rose. Stupidstupidstupid.

She still hasn't said anything, though she has turned to face me. I can see her face is tear-stained, for some retarded reason, I'm sure.

You know, I hate Rose. For what she is. But I perfectly accept her at the same time. Weird, eh? She suddenly stands up, looks at the piece of my paper tucked into my shirt pocket, and says "You're writing a song about a broom?" She snorts, half-laughing and half-crying.

And then she proceeds to walk back to the castle, leaving me standing there, utterly confused (and pissed).

* * *

by the way, in case you're wondering why Scorpius is on the third floor, when he should be on the seventh for the room of requirement ... it's because he doesn't know that yet. Silly Scorpius.


End file.
